How rich can a person be?

My wife is incredibly rich. People call her "The Queen of Cloudridge" because nearly half the city's properties are owned by her. We've been married for five years, and every time she goes out to meet her first love, she transfers a property to my name.

By the time I have 99 homes in my name, she suddenly notices that something has changed. I no longer cry, beg, or ask her to stay. I simply choose the finest mansion in all of Cloudridge, bring the property deed with me, and wait for her to sign it.

She signs the papers, and for the first time, she softens. "When I get back, let's go watch the fireworks together."

I quietly tuck the agreement away and hum in response.

But I never tell her what she's really signed this time.

It's not a property deed. It's our divorce agreement.

The office television was broadcasting the story of Cedric Gardner's return. Tiffany Scorsese's eyes remained on the screen the entire time, even when she accepted the property transfer agreement from me and signed it without hesitation.

Parnings Manor, located in the western suburbs, was one of the most sought-after properties in all of Cloudridge. It was nearly impossible to purchase even with money, yet it held no value in her eyes—just like I did.

After the broadcast ended, Tiffany appeared to be in high spirits. She casually twirled the pen between her fingers after signing, then handed the property deed back to me. "I must have transferred over 60 properties to you by now? You're basically a little tycoon," she joked.

The delight in her tone was undeniable, but it had nothing to do with me. It was all because her first love was coming home.

I stood in front of her and simply nodded. "The mansion in the western suburbs has a view of the ocean. I really like it."

Back when she was pursuing me, I had rejected her 99 times. Her persistence never wavered. After her 100th confession, we got married.

But her love didn't last long.

It disappeared the moment Cedric returned to Cloudridge, and that day was also our first wedding anniversary.

I had been basking in the candlelit dinner she had prepared just for me, waiting with quiet joy for her to come home. Instead, what arrived was a property deed and a brief apology.

"I'm sorry, Matthew. I missed our anniversary. Will you forgive me?"

I chose to ignore the heavy scent of an unfamiliar cologne clinging to her skin, and for the first time, I told her I forgave her.

To make things fair, I told myself I would forgive her 99 more times.

Then came the second time, the third, the fourth.

Throughout our five-year marriage, she left me time and again to be with Cedric. Eventually, she stopped offering explanations. Before going to see him, she would simply hand me the deed to a new property.

From the first to the ninety-ninth, I forgave her every single time.

Now, this was the hundredth.

But after this, I'd no longer need to forgive her.

That realization made me smile. I looked at her calmly, no longer weighed down by emotion. She froze for a brief second, then averted her eyes.

At that moment, I saw something unusual in her expression, a hint of reluctance. After hesitating for a moment, she said quietly, "When I get back, I'll take you to see the fireworks."

In the past, even the smallest display of kindness from her would give me false hope.

I would beg, and I would end up heartbroken. Because every time, she would pry my fingers off hers one by one and walk away without mercy, leaving behind just two words.

"You're insane."

But I had already gone insane 99 times. Now that the 100th time had passed, I didn't need to keep lying to myself anymore. Because hidden among the documents I handed her today was a divorce agreement.

In 30 days, Tiffany and I would have nothing more to do with each other.

There were 25 days left until our divorce was finalized. For the past five days, Tiffany's usually quiet social media had become unusually active.

During the day, she and Cedric fed pigeons in the plaza. At night, they watched parade floats from the rooftop of a hotel beside the amusement park.

I saw every step they took and every place they went together.

As for the promise she made to me, I was sure she had already forgotten it.

I got up and began packing. The floor was still a mess of scattered clothes and half-open luggage. That was when I received a call from her assistant, Jillian Ferguson.

"Mr. Marsden, don't forget the fireworks show at eight tonight, on Wilhelm Bridge. If anything goes wrong, Ms. Scorsese will absolutely kill me."

In the five years I had been married to Tiffany, Jillian was the only person who knew the truth about our marriage. Not wanting to make things harder for her, I said I would go.

But when I actually headed toward Wilhelm Bridge, I found myself lost in thought.

Five years ago, shortly after we got married, Tiffany had arranged a surprise fireworks show just for me. Jillian had quietly tipped me off then too.

Now, five years later, I was going to the exact same place.

Only this time, I felt completely different about it.

By the time I arrived near the bridge, the area was already filled with tourists. There were even several news crews setting up their cameras.

A strange feeling settled in my chest. Maybe I had misunderstood what this was, so I called Tiffany's phone.

It was busy, and I called again.

I wasn't even sure what I was hoping to hear. But no matter how many times I tried, she didn't answer. She never showed up either.

It was almost eight o'clock.

Someone in the crowd shouted, "The fireworks are about to start! I heard Ms. Scorsese planned the whole thing for her husband. I guess we're lucky enough to watch it too!"

I stood there, frozen. Tiffany had always maintained the image of being single in public. There was no way the "husband" they were talking about was me. It had to be someone else.

I knew the best view of the show was on the north side of the bridge.

Since I was already there, I figured I might as well go take a look. After all, the fireworks had done nothing wrong.

The crowd was thick, and I was gradually pushed to the front.

That was when I saw her.

Tiffany stood in the prime viewing spot, wrapped tightly in Cedric's arms. Fireworks exploded one after another in the sky above us, bright and dazzling.

Each boom echoed sharply in my ears. Over the sounds of the crowd and the fireworks, I could hear Tiffany uttering a heartfelt confession to Cedric.

A reporter stepped up with a microphone and asked Cedric, "Sir, how do you feel about that?"

Tiffany looked up at him with obvious anticipation. Cedric accepted the microphone with a small, shy smile and opened his mouth to speak.

But then our eyes met, and Tiffany froze. She murmured instinctively, "Matthew..."

For a moment, Wilhelm Bridge fell into complete silence, and even the fireworks seemed to fade. Everyone turned toward her voice and followed her gaze to where I was standing.

Cedric looked at me, then turned to her and asked, "Who's that?"

Tiffany licked her lips awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to respond.

I smiled and stepped forward, unfazed by the attention. "My name is Matthew Marsden. I'm Ms. Scorsese's..."

She immediately tried to stop me, but I finished the sentence anyway. "Cousin."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I finally let go of the tension in my chest. "Aunt Elena asked me to come check out her future son-in-law. Sorry if I startled anyone."

Tiffany's expression relaxed at once, and she gave me a subtle nod of approval. She had never wanted me to reveal our relationship in public, and her mother, Elena Fletcher, felt the same.

Every time I went out with her, she insisted I call her Aunt Elena.

This woman, whom I had called "Aunt Elena" for five years, was the perfect excuse, carefully prepared from the beginning.

The fireworks show carried on. No one was paying attention to me anymore.

Then the weather turned. Out of nowhere, rain came pouring down. Tiffany quickly pushed through the crowd. "Cedric's not well. He can't be in the rain. Please, make way."

She carefully shielded him as she helped him into the car.

And once again, I was left standing alone.

The rain was ice cold, but I didn't feel a thing. Maybe five years of marriage had already numbed me.

…

I got home and took a hot shower. By the time I came out, Tiffany was in the living room.

She hesitated, then actually thanked me. "Thank you for stepping in out there. I mean... we're still secretly married. If things had come out, it wouldn't have looked good for Cedric. One day, I'll find a way to make our relationship public."

I didn't remind her that there would be no more chances to go public. This marriage was already ending, and it might as well be erased from existence.

It was better for both of us.

Then, as if remembering, she asked, "But why were you even there?"

I smiled and looked at her for a long time without saying a word. Only when her gaze started to shift did I finally speak. "Jillian asked me to go."

Only then did she remember that the fireworks show had originally been something she promised me. But she had been too busy enjoying her time with Cedric to even think about it.

"Sorry. Next week... Wait, no, I have to travel for work. Next month, for sure. I'll take you then."

I shook my head. "Let's see when the time comes."'

Tiffany seemed pleased by how easy I was being. She gave me a light hug. Never before had her arms felt so cold.

She did end up going on that business trip, just as she said. Only this time, she brought Cedric with her.

Outside of work, they went for candlelit dinners, visited museums, and ate seafood at a street stall she had never been willing to visit with me.

She had once said to me, "I'm a CEO. I can't eat at places like that. It's beneath me."

But in front of Cedric, Tiffany had no status to maintain. She was just a woman in love.

…

Three days until the deadline, Tiffany finally came home. She had been away for over two weeks, and during that time, I never once contacted her.

Looking at the spotless mansion, she realized, perhaps for the first time, what I had contributed to our five years of marriage.

"Babe, you've worked so hard," she said.

It had been so long since I last heard her call me that. I couldn't even remember when it was.

"I was thinking of taking you to see the fireworks the day after tomorrow, but they've recently banned all firework displays…"

I could hear it in her tone. She simply didn't want to go with me anymore. Cedric had probably said something.

"Then don't worry about it," I replied.

Tiffany paused, clearly caught off guard that I was letting it go so easily. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

If this were before, I would have lost it and demanded to know why she never kept her promises. But now, her empty words no longer mattered to me. "It's just fireworks. It doesn't matter."

Just like Tiffany. She didn't matter anymore either.

After a long silence, she spoke again. "Then, how about I take you to that mansion in the western suburbs the day after tomorrow? I heard you can see hot air balloons from there."

I glanced at my phone. The calendar showed that the day after tomorrow was Valentine's Day.

Would she really come see me on such an important day?

She was probably just brushing me off.